


Hot Toddy

by Artemis_Wings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Castiel in the Bunker, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Fever, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Sick Castiel, Sickfic, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cas gets a cold, hot toddys, niquil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 16:28:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11604450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Wings/pseuds/Artemis_Wings
Summary: He tried not to let the brothers know that he was sick, they had too much on their plate with hunts and life in general, so Castiel took to avoidance tactic. His sore throat started on Sunday, and by Monday morning his sore throat became a full-blown head-cold/ cough. His nose refused to stop running, his eyes were glassy and unfocused, and he went from being much too hot to much too cold even with about 10 blankets he had stolen from the unused rooms in the bunker.





	Hot Toddy

**Author's Note:**

> I am sick with a head cold and fever, so Cas gets to be sick with a head cold and fever because I want some fluff. Also Hot Toddies are amazing for sore throats and the whiskey helps you sleep so I couldn't imagine that the boys would never have tried it for a cold. I am on my second one as I type this. No regrets. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are what I live for <3

It all started with a sore throat. 

A sore throat alone isn’t anything to be overly concerned about, unless it’s your first one in your entire millennia of existence. For Castiel, a sore throat was just the beginning of the worst few days of his very long life. 

He tried not to let the brothers know that he was sick, they had too much on their plate with hunts and life in general, so Castiel took to avoidance tactic. His sore throat started on Sunday, and by Monday morning his sore throat became a full-blown head-cold/ cough. His nose refused to stop running, his eyes were glassy and unfocused, and he went from being much too hot to much too cold even with about 10 blankets he had stolen from the unused rooms in the bunker. 

Monday evening, Dean knocked on his door to let him know dinner was ready, but Cas didn’t really feel like he could eat. His throat was in too much pain and he was just so damn tired. He did, however, get up to take a shower and change his clothes. From one pair of sweatpants to a softer, more worn, pair Dean had given him during one of his first human days. 

He padded down the hall, right past the kitchen, where he saw Sam and Dean sitting. “Where have you been all day?” Dean asked Cas.

“Reading.” Castiel replied, careful not to let his stuffy nose affect his voice too much, “I’m going to shower now.”

“Okay,” Dean said, “Why don’t you come join us for a movie in Sam’s room afterwards?” 

“Perhaps. I might get back to my book after…”

“Suit yourself.” Dean said, tipping the beer bottle back and taking a long sip. Castiel found himself staring at the softness of Dean’s lips, the curve of his neck. If he wasn’t so sick he imagined that he may have become aroused at just the sight of the beer entering Dean’s mouth. 

As it were, he was in no state to become aroused or “Take care” of himself in the shower. 

When he got to the bathroom, he started shivering again even though he knew that the bathroom was warm. He had goosebumps and he couldn’t help the light shaking his body was doing. 

He turned the water up as hot as he could stand it, humming softly and the near-scalding water enveloped his skin in a warm spray. He wasn’t sure how long he stood under the water, but he slowly began washing himself. His underarms, his hair, his genitals, his feet. All of the places that would become uncomfortable if they weren’t cleaned properly, and those places that tended to smell the worst after sweating under all the blankets all day. 

Suddenly, he was feeling dizzy, so he placed his head upon the cool tile and closed his eyes, hugging his arms around himself as the hot water continued to hit his back. Eventually, the water was not quite as hot and he decided it was time to go back to his room. 

Getting dressed seemed to be a monumental task as black dots clouded his vision and his nose began to run freely. he blew his nose on the face cloth he had brought with him and wrapped the towel around his waist. He’d change when he got back to his room, or maybe he would just sleep naked under his mountain of blankets. 

He made it past the kitchen, down the hall and right near Sam’s room when he heard Dean call his name. He peered his head in, the world still spinning and his breath coming in pants, “Yes Dean?”

Dean was alone in the room, but there were no snacks. Apparently Sam had lost Rock, Paper, Scissors for once and had been the one to get them. It was a fairly regular occurrence to have movie night in Sam’s room since Sam had a legitimate Netflix account and a bigger TV.

“Didja change your mind about that movie-” Was all Dean said before he realized something was wrong. Castiel tried to keep himself steady against the doorframe, but the darkness at the edge of his vision was quickly moving in, making it unable for him to see. His knees buckled and Dean was only just fast enough to keep Cas from hitting the floor hard. 

“Damnit Cas, you’re burning up! How long have you been sick?” Dean asked, concern showing on his features. 

“I had a sore throat yesterday.” He said, and coughing as if to prove a point. 

“What’s going on?” Cas heard Sam ask, but he let his eyes slip closed, delirious in his fevered state.

There were murmurs after that, things Cas couldn’t make out, just some key words: “Dehydrated,” “High Fever,” “Flu Medicine,” to name a few. Before Cas knew it he was being lowered, still naked, onto the softest bed he’d ever laid on. It wasn’t his, no, the bed in his room was fine, but it wasn’t like _this._

And it smelled _so good,_ like leather and home. Castiel must’ve voiced this because he heard Dean say, “Whatever you say, buddy.”

Soon enough, Dean was helping him sit up to take 4 weird looking teal pills (NiQuil, Dean had called them), blow his nose, and drink at least an entire bottle of water. 

“My throat hurts,” Cas complained, a little dazed by the fever and the NiQuil. 

“I think I’ve got a solution. Don’t tell Sam, I’ll be right back.” Dean said.

It seemed like Dean was gone an eternity, and also like no time had passed at all. When he did return, it was with a mug of steaming liquid.

“What’s this?” Cas asked, eyeing the cup warily.

“It’s called a Hot Toddy. It’s the best when you’re sick.” Dean assured him. Castiel lifted the cup to look inside. There was a lemon slice floating at the top, and Castiel took a tentative sip. 

It tasted like lemon and honey and something else that Cas couldn’t quite put his finger on. He knew he’s had whatever it was before. The drink wasn’t too sweet, but not too sour either. “What is in this?” Castiel asked after gulping down the majority of it. 

“It’s lemon juice, hot water, honey, and whiskey.” Dean said, “I used the good whiskey for it too, well, not top shelf but not the usual rot-gut that me an’ Sammy drink on the regular.”

“Thank you Dean, may I have another? the feel of it on my throat is lovely.” Castiel said, licking his lips to find the sour traces of lemon lingering. 

“Sure, I’ll be right back.” Dean said, and this time brought two mugs, one for himself and another for Cas.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick, Cas?” Dean asked after a few moments of silence. 

“I didn’t want to be a burden. You’re so good to me Dean. My Deanie-weenie.” Castiel laughed, having gulped down his second Hot Toddy in record time and taken a double-dose of NiQuil, all mixed with the delirium of his fever had him feeling loose and generally silly.

Dean smiled and brought his own mug to his lips. “Whatever you say, Cas.”

“Oh Dean. I love you so much. You’re my favorite human. I mean I like Sam okay but I don’t need him like I need you. And he doesn’t take care of me like you do.” Cas sighed.

Dean was turning slightly pink, and Castiel smiled. “I wish you liked men because I think I have a preference for men. We would be a cute couple. We could write just married on the Impala’s ass… do cars have asses? What is the word I’m looking for Dean?” Castiel leveled Dean with a stare that was nothing short of his former angelic seriousness, but the whole situation was just too crazy for Dean that he had to laugh, which only made Castiel pout.

“Hows about you get some sleep and you can tell me all about it in the morning, huh?” Dean said.

“I finally feel warm. Like a lizard in a dessert on a hot day.” Castiel mused.

“Good. A Hot Toddy will do that. Get some rest.” Dean said, watching as Castiel’s eyes slipped closed and his breathing evened out. 

Dean got up and placed a soft kiss on Castiel’s forehead. “I love you too,” He whispered into his hair. He slipped out of his bedroom, intent on returning in a while to climb in next to the sleeping man in his bed.

When Cas got better, they would have a lot to talk about, but until then, Dean was content to make some tomato-rice soup and take care of his fallen angel.


End file.
